Addition to Isabo's Shirt'
by Missyhissy3
Summary: 'She felt like crying, but it wasn't really an option. "Never really is when you're the captain," part of her brain chipped in inappropriately.' The beginning and end of this rely heavily on Isabo's Shirt by Kirsten Beyer in the collection of stories called Distant Shores. I really like that story and recommend reading it.
1. Chapter 1

Based on Isabo's Shirt, by Kirsten Beyer, in Distant Shores

Copyright: Paramount/Kirsten Beyer

* * *

"Would you care to dance?"

She didn't hesitate to stand and take his hand, still bathing in the glow of the warmth she felt towards him after having opened his gift to her.

Her hand in his was nothing particularly new. She was accustomed to touching him fleetingly relatively often, patting his arm or prodding his chest playfully to drive home a witty retort, so this started for her as a natural extension of their every day contact. As his other hand circled her waist and rested in the small of her back, she felt the heat of his skin through her dress – certainly more noticeable through this thinner fabric than when he placed his hand there when they were in uniform.

He had beautiful hands. She'd noticed that years ago. Strong, long and relatively slender fingers for a man his height, and broad palms in keeping with his broad frame. Beautiful hands that could perform manual labour with force when needed, or could equally well move with grace and dexterity across sensitive input pads and control panels.

'Why has it taken you five years to bring me to Venice?' she asked playfully, as she relaxed into his arms, registering in the back of her mind how good she was feeling this evening, and how lovely it was in this holographic Venice.

He didn't reply immediately to her question. He often took his time to reply, or just responded with a look or a smile or a nod of the head. A 'man of few words' would have seemed positively chatty compared to Chakotay sometimes. He could even be a little somber and moody on occasion, and she was no stranger to dealing with him on those days. This, however, wasn't one of those days, so Kathryn waited for some sort of response.

As her question hung in the air, he looked directly into her eyes and held her gaze for a few seconds. She had felt confident she could read him pretty well for several years now, so what she thought she could see in his direct gaze left her feeling slightly off balance.

She wondered where that intensity had suddenly come from? The response in kind, the playful banter she was expecting, still didn't come. An answer of sorts finally came when the hand on the small of her back pulled her closer to him into an embrace, gently bringing her body flush against his. As he began to dip his head towards hers, her body registered what was happening, even if her brain was still lagging behind.

One direct gaze from him and the closing of the few centimeters that had separated them and this sociable dance shared by two friends and colleagues had been seamlessly transformed into something quite else.


	2. Chapter 2

Much later, when she thought about this moment in the privacy her of quarters, she realized that she'd accepted his invitation to dance without even thinking about the possibility that he wanted to initiate anything intimate between them. She had convinced herself he had moved on from entertaining any romantic notions about the two of them years ago.

As for herself, she knew herself well enough to know that his close physical proximity out of uniform and outside the clear demarcation of their professional relationship had been something she'd found unsettling since spending those weeks alone with him on the planet in Videan space. She had instinctively known that dancing with him in any context – be it on the holodeck at crew get-togethers or during receptions on alien worlds - wouldn't be wise, so she had successfully avoided it for several years now. It hadn't been hard to do, and had never been commented on by anyone to her knowledge.

On this occasion, however, she had just been too caught up in the moment and so full of gratitude on receipt of the beautifully crafted mirror, that she had accepted immediately, content to go along with anything he asked at that precise moment. The reticence she would've felt, had she had time to consider at length whether she really thought it was a good idea to dance with him, alone there, in that decidedly romantic setting, simply hadn't had time to assert itself.

She realized later that this had been the pivotal moment everything had changed. If she had politely declined, she doubted he would've dared to close the distance between them so swiftly in any other more direct way, and she would have had far more warning that something was going on with him that she hadn't anticipated.

Dinner, with the table between them and ship's business to discuss, was usually an extension of the working day, and she had always remained in uniform until tonight, thus obliging him to do the same. Keeping him literally at arm's length most of the time and wearing the clothing that provided a constant reminder of their professional commitments was second nature to her. Far enough away not to upset her equilibrium but close enough to rely on when she needed him.

Working side by side with him on a daily basis for 5 years had meant she had long ago developed strategies to interact with him professionally and personally in a way that sidestepped the physical response his presence had elicited from her in their first few meetings. She had felt confident relatively soon after meeting him, that she could be immune to his obvious charms, and had watched amused, when occasionally some female swooned or simpered before him.

The first time she saw him in the information she had been given about him prior to Voyager's original mission into the badlands -information that included a relatively poor photo of him taken from a considerable distance during surveillance of his Maquis cell, together with his formal star fleet personnel file mug shot - she hadn't failed to notice that he was an attractive man aesthetically speaking. "Easy on the eye", her mother would've said. As she had been entrusted with his arrest, whether or not she found him attractive had hardly been relevant though. So, as she'd inspected the photos of him, she had given it little thought, other than to register his physical attractiveness as another piece of information that would allow her to know what to expect when she eventually caught up with him.

When they did eventually meet, her first impressions of him had been memorable to say the least, and certainly not all in line with her expectations. First there was his outburst directed at Tom Paris, almost immediately after he had materialized on her bridge, smoldering with barely suppressed anger from the onset. Then there was the way he'd accepted her directing him to stand down and his silent nod of ascent to cooperation, when he could've decided to cause havoc. And thirdly, his immediate and unswerving defense of her decision to destroy the array had been surprising too, particularly in the face of the outrage of one of his closest friends, who was most likely expressing the sentiments of the vast majority of his Maquis crew at that moment. Later in their journey, when Seska had humiliated him in front of Kathryn and others, taunting him with his supposed predictability, Kathryn had thought that this was an inaccurate assessment of the man for several reasons. Predictably loyal perhaps, but not much else.

His physical presence, she'd quickly discovered, had added another dimension to her initial impression of him. He wasn't just handsome, he had an aura of unstudied sensuality that she imagined many would find compelling. She was not immune to this herself, and had she met him at a time when she'd been open to the possibility of a new relationship, then it wasn't inconceivable that she would have decided there was something to explore there. In general, however, an intellectual connection was her first and foremost requirement in a partner, so first impressions wouldn't have necessarily led her to think they'd be particularly compatible. She'd met her fair share of physically attractive male specimens in the course of her life and in her line of work, some of whom had exuded sensuality far more noticeably than Chakotay did, and she knew how to handle herself around them.

One experience she had had soon after having been promoted to captain, which had leant a whole new meaning to the phrase 'First Contact', had meant she wasn't floored by much any more when it came to dealing with expressions of sexuality in the line of work. To say that the briefing she'd been given about that particular race of Aliens hadn't prepared her for the special reception the head of state had laid on in her honour would have been something of an understatement. She had been obliged to employ all of her diplomatic skill to explain patiently to him that it wouldn't be in line with Starfleet protocols for her to accompany him and his deputy to his chamber and strip, in order to allow them to 'taste her skin juices' with their tongue tentacles. (_Might pass for diplomacy in your neck of the woods, my friend, but it sure as hell isn't going to cut it with me. Don't see you offering to remove your coverings for me to do any tasting either? Why do the females always end up with the bum end of the deal?_ Not that either of them had looked that tasty to her anyway...) He'd taken her refusal pretty well all things considered.

So, one ex-Starfleet Native American human wouldn't be posing her any problems in that area. She had felt confident she would be able to deal with anything this man could throw at her.

In the first few days of their journey, Kathryn had noticed being around Chakotay felt very different from being around the other two men she'd been spending time with in recent months. Mark, her fiancé, was relativity reserved in terms of expressing his emotions, and her original First Officer, Commander Cavit, who she was only just getting to know when he'd been killed, had been pretty formal in his limited dealings with her. Add Tuvok to the list and it wasn't hard to see why working in close proximity to Chakotay felt quite different. She was somehow aware of where he was in the room at all times. And, she'd noticed immediately that he stood far closer to her, immediately behind her often when they were on the bridge, well inside what she had previously considered to be her personal space before working with him. She had been slightly surprised to find that she didn't actually mind, and it very soon seemed quite normal.

Chakotay was also more physically and emotionally demonstrative with his male and female friends than other men she knew. He had a obvious affection for his engineer, B'Elanna, which was expressed physically on both sides, with an embrace here, a punch there. Kathryn believed firmly that the nature of the professional relationship she needed to cultivate with him, however, would not allow for this sort of intimacy or playfulness.

Their professional relationship would obviously require them to function as an effective and focused command team and so she had instinctively chosen to suppress some of the responses his physical proximity initially evoked in her. About her ability to do this, she also felt confident. He was an attractive man for sure, but her affections lay with her fiancé and she wasn't looking for distractions of any kind, so she had believed that she would be able to relate successfully to him on a purely professional level from the outset.

At social functions on alien planets she was accustomed to observing female members of the cultures they encountered openly appraising her male colleagues, just as she was sometimes openly scrutinized in an overtly sexual manner but some alien dignitaries. Chakotay generally attracted more attention than the other male members of the senior staff, with Ayala coming in as a close second when he'd been included in the away team's security detail. Consequently she was aware that Chakotay's physique was aesthetically pleasing in some objective sense. This had actually helped her suppress her own initial responses, since she reasoned with herself that any feelings he inspired in her weren't specific to the two of them. He was just the sort of man many females found attractive due to his well-proportioned physique, symmetrical features and easy manners. The perfect white teeth and the dimpled smile didn't hurt either, and could thaw out some pretty frosty aliens. He certainly had his uses at official functions, so from time to time she'd left him to deal with their guests and sloped off for a bit of peace and quiet to knock back a quick Vulcan brandy with Tuvok.

In the first few months of their journey, as she got to know him, she also discovered that he was sometimes disarmingly direct, and had an off-centre, surprisingly wicked sense of humour, given his mostly calm exterior, and an appreciation for the absurd, which could really entertain her. In short, she liked his company very much; it was certainly no inconvenience that he was pleasing to look at too when her mind drifted, whilst reviewing some stunningly dull report with him in her ready room.

All this was a huge bonus really, given their isolated situation and the fact that there was no end in sight for this journey any time soon. They were going to have to work together for years, and as very few members of Voyager's crew had command training, replacing senior staff or rotating people to different positions if temperaments clashed would've been very hard. There were very few others on board, with whom she would've been able to work day in day out so harmoniously for these 5 years for the vast majority of the time - notwithstanding the few noteworthy occasions when they'd clashed dramatically of course. She had actually been incredibly lucky that the man captaining the crew she had had little option other than to adopt, had happened to be someone with whom she got on so well.

She hadn't really thought much about what his first impressions of her had been. Nor had she really ever considered how he'd felt about having to make the adjustment back to the more formal command structure and relationships of Starfleet. She'd understood from intelligence reports that the style of command in the Maquis could range from the relaxed to the brutal, according to the dictates of each mission. He hadn't talked to her at all about how he himself was making this readjustment. As far as she could tell, he hadn't seemed to look back, but had rather seemed content to do whatever was required of him in the present to ensure his crew a future.

As far as how he felt about her on a personal level, after a relatively short time of working together, he had seemed relaxed enough around her, so she had concluded that he liked her well enough. But she certainly hadn't perceived any particular special attention directed her way in the first part of their journey.

She had learnt from Tuvok that Chakotay had been in a relationship of sorts with Seska for a time whilst they had been on his ship. From observing his courteous but distanced response to Seska's attentions on Voyager, Kathryn had concluded that whatever interest he might once have had in her had long since run its course and was unlikely to return. If anything, she had wondered initially about the exact nature of his relationship with B'Elanna.

Kathryn had picked up pretty quickly on the fact that although Seska herself was still very much caught up in the pull of her feelings towards him - the woman was forever trying to drape some part of herself over him whenever they were off duty it seemed - his indifference towards her seemed pretty consistent. With B'Elanna however, Kathryn thought things were a lot less clear-cut at the start of their journey.

Kathryn remembered watching them one evening sometime in their first year, on one of the few times she had joined the crew on the holodeck in Sandrine's. She had found herself engaged in what she thought of as uncharacteristic speculation, concerning what had gone on, was going on, or was about to start even between them.

He was open in his expressions of affection and support for B'Elanna and clearly had great respect for her professional abilities. She clearly enjoyed his company too, and teased or challenged in him in ways that few others dared. As they were both unattached, and spent a significant proportion of their free time together, often engaged in fiercely competitive and sweaty hoverball matches, or Klingon martial arts programs, Kathryn had wondered whether they were also involved in other more intimate methods of relieving tension together. B'Elanna was a notoriously physical and fiery personality, and Kathryn found her imagination didn't need to stretch itself far at all to see them together, locked in other sorts of passionate and very physical activity.

On the particular night in Sandrine's she remembered, when she had been persuaded by Tom Paris to join the rest of the senior staff, (all save Tuvok of course) they had all consumed a few rounds of real alcohol in celebration of a minor victory against some or other irrationally hostile alien. Tom had programmed in a selection of music from the Alpha Quadrant. Some of the tracks had been popular in the bars on Deep Space 9, at the time that the crew had passed through on their way to start their mission into the badlands. They all knew these tracks would be well out of date now back home, but for Kathryn's crew, this music was a bitter sweet reminder of the all the Alpha Quadrant still meant to many of them. They evoked for some the feelings of excitement and anticipation they'd felt as they'd prepared to join their new ship. From the reaction of some of her ex-Maquis crewmembers, they knew many of these same songs too, although Lord knows what sort of dives they would've heard them in. Places that would have had to have been pretty far off the beaten track, Kathryn mused.

Kathryn remembered how B'Elanna had pulled Chakotay up onto the dance floor when a song with a heavy bass rhythm had started up. The dance floor had been crowded with crewmembers and a few incongruous holographic couples generic to Sandrine's, all in hold, moving to the slightly hypnotic beat. Chakotay hadn't seemed phased or embarrassed, as Kathryn herself would've been if she had been pulled towards the dance floor, watched by a portion of her crew. Quite the contrary, Kathryn had thought, he clearly enjoyed dancing and he and B'Elanna made an attractive couple.

It had looked as if he was leading her effortlessly, holding her close to his body as they moved together to the vibrant rhythm. The dance floor was small and crowded, so he hadn't been spinning her all over the place, but dancing exclusively in hold, with their lower and upper bodies moving with considerable skill in synchronous motion, pressed closely together. She remembered thinking they'd clearly danced together like this before and were both familiar with this music and were comfortable with the close contact the style of dancing required.

Then the music had changed and a much slower song had started up, Kathryn (and Tom Paris) had continued to watch as the couple had switched tempo effortlessly to move together in a way that suggested relaxed familiarity. She remembered thinking they looked comfortable together, as one might feel with an ex lover whose body had already been explored; or perhaps comfortable together in that they shared an attitude towards touch that allowed then to enjoy their embrace without necessarily attributing particular significance or consequences to it.

Kathryn remembered feeling envious.

There was no one on board her ship - no one in this whole impossible quadrant, she'd thought, whose embrace she herself would've felt comfortable in at that time. It was pretty hard to imagine Tuvok leading her in a dance like that...and frankly impossible to imagine enjoying his embrace in such a way.

The only times she had been afforded a glimpse of how she herself would feel in such close physical proximity to her First Officer were times she recalled quite clearly, but chose not to dwell on usually. But, in the aftermath of their evening in Venice, Kathryn found herself examining those memories afresh.

The first time she had been given reason to pause and question what exactly was going on between them had been when they had been marooned together on the planet in Videan space. In the first two years of their journey, Kathryn hadn't presumed he'd ever felt particularly attracted to her. In fact, she presumed that like most Starfleet men she dealt in her working life, he probably perceived her as a strong captain first and as a woman second. Only when they had been stranded together for those complicated weeks, had she considered the possibility that he might actually be attracted to her.

When she lay in her narrow sleeping alcove one night and examined how she'd felt when she'd noticed him openly appreciating her state of undress as she stood close beside him in a towel for the first time, she couldn't shake the feeling that his appreciation of her attractiveness at that point in time was probably due in large part to the fact that she was the only woman on the damn planet! He was a man after all, with needs that for some reason she suspected he would be less able to suppress as effectively as she had been used to doing with her own.

Some time later, she had become aware one particular evening of the dramatic effect his touch could have on her, when he'd spontaneously offered to work out the knots that had formed in her neck and shoulder muscles. His strong hands massaging her aching shoulders had felt so good, that she'd have willingly sat there for as long as he'd been prepared to massage them; reveling in his touch and in the delicious sensations he was creating in her body. She had been totally lost in the physical pleasure of the moment, and had just started to relax further into the movements of his hands when he had slowed down and stopped.

His thoughts had clearly been elsewhere. She hadn't been thinking at all. Existing fully in the moment, she had been savouring the intense physical pain-pleasure he was creating for her as he worked out the tense knots.

He seemed to have been somehow overwhelmed by his feelings for her, however. His therapeutic massage had very soon become an expression of these feelings and the tenderness in his final touches had been unmistakable.

His massage-caress had stopped and he had silently kissed her hair.

If he had actually continued the firm sensual massage for longer, intent on encouraging a response from her to his touch, he probably would have found her more than willing to give one; as long as he'd asked for it before her brain had had time to kick in and start analysing what was unfolding between them. She hadn't enjoyed physical intimacy for over two years at that point - which was far, far too long by anyone's reckoning - and once he had begun to touch her, she found she desperately craved more. From her perspective he had stopped his wonderful ministrations far too soon!

When he'd stopped, she'd risen from her seat and turned to face him. The silent question in his eyes as he'd stood there, had overwhelmed her with confusion. He was tentatively offering her her first ever glimpse of how the connection he was feeling between them was touching his soul. To see him so uncharacteristically unsure of himself, made her suddenly aware of how her verbal response to his touch could easily have been interpreted.

"_Oh that feels good"_

She was suddenly embarrassed and needed to put some distance between them quickly, so she could think. His questioning look had forced her mind to jump ahead to thinking about the repercussions of any developments towards intimacy in the relationship between them. What if they took those steps together and were then somehow able to leave? What if the ship did come back for them? How would she explain this to Mark one day? How on earth would they ever be able to go back to being Captain and Commander? It was just such a minefield of complications.

She didn't have the answers to those questions, so she retreated into her alcove.

When she forced herself to come out and face him a few minutes later, to talk about what had just gone on, she had been totally unprepared for his response to her no nonsense attempt to clarify things between them.

Define parameters? He was having none of it.

There was no mistaking the emotion she could see on his face. She'd never felt more for him than she did then as he softly spun his 'legend' for her. It was humbling, and beautiful.

And then the ship came back.

Tuvok's timing was spectacular – spectacularly good or spectacularly bad? She could never decide. From her perspective, the call came only hours before they would've taken those last inevitable steps.

What seemed particularly cruel however, was that despite the fact that they never took those final steps together and never enjoyed each other in all the ways she'd started to imagine they would, it turned out that the mere fact of them both having thought about it, was enough to mean that returning to their command structure was incredibly awkward at first.

She'd had none of the anticipated pleasure, but still got a big serving of the accompanying angst. Sometimes her situation on this isolated ship was just insanely hard to handle.

However, she wasn't the sort to dwell on the negative, and told herself that the deeper friendship they'd established there would only benefit their working relationship in the long run, once the initial awkwardness had passed. He continued to use her first name when they were alone, and she enjoyed hearing him say it, since he was the only one who ever used it.

She believed he'd accepted the need for them to reestablish the distance that their professional positions required, and he had never tried to persuade her otherwise or force the issue. Dwelling on what might have transpired between them had their rescue taken a few more days wasn't something she believed would be productive, so her suppression mechanisms had taken over again and she had been careful to resume thinking about him within the clear parameters of 'friend' again, and adjusted her behavior around him accordingly.

Almost immediately after they were rescued, however, events on Voyager had been so traumatic, with Seska's reappearance and their temporary loss of the ship, that they been thrown right back into the deep end of Delta Quadrant near disasters, and their unswerving commitment to the ship and their crew had taken over immediately.

She had found things between them to be relatively unproblematic after that for a while until one particular evening. True, he had found it hard to tolerate Q's hopeless attempts at romancing her and had seemed a bit possessive, but he'd never been able to stand Q anyway. Nothing had come of his admission that he was bothered by Q's attentions to her. Their friendship had carried on as usual, he hadn't asked her to talk about anything or re think things between them.

Then one night, Tom Paris had set up a Hawaiian evening on the holodeck. Chakotay had suggested she attend, and she had thought that it was perhaps time she attempted to socialize more with the wider crew, rather than just spending off duty time with him and with Tuvok. She'd asked him to call past her quarters so they could arrive together.

She had chosen a strapless dress, and had thought little of it - other than to ask herself initially if it was a little uncaptain-like and a bit silly perhaps as an outfit - until late in the evening when she and Chakotay had sat down on the beach with a group, including Tom, Harry, B'Elanna, Harry, Nelix, Kes and the Delaney sisters.

They had all seated themselves leaning back comfortably against a low sand bank half way up the beach, facing out to sea. A few towels had been spread in a line up against the sandbank, to make a comfortable seating area, from which to watch the holographic sunset.

Kathryn had shivered very slightly as a slight breeze came in off the sea, and without comment, Chakotay had simply put his arm around her shoulders. As he did so, he'd pulled her closer to him, aligning their bodies and slotting her under his arm, against his side. The others hadn't seemed to react in any way or even to notice. Kathryn wondered if this was just because they were all facing outwards, or because the light was fading and they couldn't see each other that clearly, on top of the fact that she and Chakotay were sitting at the end of the line.

Nelix had already put his scarily garish jacket around Kes's shoulders moments before, when she had remarked on the slight drop in temperature, and B'Elanna had caused amusement by insisting one of the waiters bring her a large fluffy blanket, since her intolerance for the cold was well known. Kathryn was the only one who seemed to find anything unusual about Chakotay's behaviour. At the time she had thought "_if he had been sitting next to B'Elanna and had put his arm around her to warm her up, I wouldn't think anything of it, so why am I feeling so self-conscious here_?"

Her discomfort clearly had something to do with feeling part of his solid body encircling her without the barrier of layers of starchy uniform and turtleneck that usually separated them when she touched him. Perhaps she also felt a little off balance, as it had been him who had initiated this contact, whereas it was she who did the patting and poking that made up their usual ways of touching – he was usually the passive target.

His short-sleeved shirt left the warm skin of his arm flush against her cooling bare shoulders, and it just felt much too good. Thoughts of how more of his warm skin would feel encircling more of her bare skin came uninvited into her mind. He seemed totally oblivious, relaxing against her, as he continued to follow the group conversation. He didn't contribute much, one comment in half an hour she could remember, but that was just par for the course with him. He didn't seem distracted by their touching bodies - if anything he seemed more relaxed than normal, and was clearly having a good time with his friends. As the moments went past she had tried to relax too, but it simply hadn't been possible. She had felt sure her cheeks were noticeably flushed, if not her neck and shoulders as well, and she kept expecting someone, Tom Paris most likely, sitting close by on the other side of Chakotay, to give her a knowing smirk. Her expectations went unfulfilled however.

It occurred to her that she'd always played her cards so close to her chest with Chakotay, that the poor man probably had no idea of the storm he was capable of working up within her, with even this sort of minimal physical attention. As if the universe had read her thoughts and decided to toy with her a little more, the fingers of the hand draped around her shoulder started to caress her skin delicately. Her eyes went to the side to take a brief look at his face. She watched him as he laughed at something Harry had said about Tom having gotten the climate settings all wrong for Hawaii, since it shouldn't be cooling even a little bit. As he listened to Harry, his fingers continued to trace their delicate patterns on her flesh. She realized then that he wasn't actually aware of what he was doing, and if she were to catch his eye now, it might draw his attention to it, and consequently her reaction might then cause him to stop. She found herself looking away, unable to do anything other than focus on the feel of his touch. She had no idea what the last few exchanges in the group had been about, and frankly didn't care. She just wanted him to carry on caressing her, and given that no one but her seemed aware of it, she saw no reason to do anything that might curtail it and deny herself this small pleasure.

She found herself wondering whether he was simply this physically comfortable with all the women in his life? And then realized she knew precious little about any of them. In the life he had led before the turn of events that had put them both on duty more or less permanently, with no possibility of a private non work-related social life, perhaps he had been the sort of man who had always had a woman at his side and was used to a constant physical connection? Maybe he even needed that physical connection to feel grounded and content? She realized she had no idea. The man had had no 'normal' life now for several years, as far as she knew, ever since the Cardassians decimated his home world and the Starfleet life he'd carved out for himself had imploded. She imagined romance had been even lower down his list of priorities than it had been on hers in recent years. It dawned on her that even during their stay on New Earth, he hadn't actually told her anything at all about any of his previous relationships. All she knew about his relationships with women at that point was the little B'Elanna had told her about him and Seska, when he'd left the ship without her permission to go after the transporter technology.

B'Elanna had also once mentioned a woman called Sveta he had spent his Academy years with, who'd resurfaced and recruited him into the Maquis, and she'd implied that Chakotay and Sveta were lovers at some point. Kathryn realized that she hadn't heard any of this from him, and that in all the time they'd spent together, it had been her who had done most of the talking and all of the sharing. Despite managing to come across as an open sort of person, he had actually shared very little with her of his personal history. Consequently, she had little or nothing to go on, when trying to decide what, if anything, his behavior towards her that evening meant.

She had wondered whether that rare moment of calm that night, in the chaos that was the Delta Quadrant was affording her an insight into what sort of a man he had been in his past life. As she looked around at the other members of her crew settled comfortably close to one another on the beach, she had something of a revelation. It dawned on her that Chakotay, like everyone on the ship apart from her probably, had been trying to build some sort of a social life here, outside his duty shifts, with the people he'd been thrown together on this ship with. His duties as First Officer required he deal with personnel issues and so she knew he would inevitably become closer to the crew than she would, but she hadn't thought much about what that meant really. Now she understood that he was far less isolated on this ship than she was.

She watched B'Elanna fighting Tom off on one side and Harry on the other as they both tried to join her under her fluffy blanket. A few minutes later Mike Ayala wandered over and flopped down on the top of the little sandbank behind Chakotay. He then proceeded to slide down and make himself a space between Chakotay and Tom, where there hadn't really been room for a man of his size, by shouldering each of them to the side a little. Chakotay moved over slightly closer to Kathryn, shifting her along a bit and then pulled the towel back up where Mike had dragged it down. Finally he settled back, his right arm still around Kathryn, and his other shoulder now touching Mike's. Tom also seemed quite unperturbed to be sandwiched between Mike on one side and B'Elanna and her ridiculous fluffy blanket on the other. As she observed them, Kathryn realized she had no idea Tom Paris felt at ease enough with Ayala to be sitting next to him companionably like this. She'd presumed they still just tolerated each other, and had had no idea they had become friends.

_"I'm out of date,"_ she thought. _"They've moved on in ways I hadn't even perceived. I need to spend more time like this with them. Perhaps there could be space in my life for this too now?"_

The playful banter and close physical proximity of the group reminded her of her Academy days when she had occasionally been part of one or other groups of young adults with free time to share.

This was the first evening she could remember for months, where her responsibilities seemed to take a back seat in her mind. She just hoped none of them would call her 'Captain'. She _so_ didn't want to have to answer to her title right now. She desperately hoped her presence in the group wasn't inhibiting them from behaving as they normally would, were she not there.

When Ayala had caused him to shift their position, Chakotay's hand had stopped absentmindedly caressing her skin, so Kathryn had pulled herself together enough to tune back in and join in with the conversation around them. She was usually a lively member of any group, and didn't want to attract anyone's attention by being uncharacteristically silent. She had been exchanging slightly unprofessional banter with Tom about what Tuvok had been getting up to – playing Kal-toh with a rather attractive looking woman. She thought she was managing to relax finally.

Chakotay had shifted position slightly then, chuckling something about his butt going to sleep as he did so, and she'd laughed with him. He turned slightly towards her and readjusted where he'd positioned her so that his right arm was still draped over her shoulders, but he'd moved her so that her body was at a slight angle now. As she settled back, she found herself leaning against him now, rather than against the sandbank. His other hand had then come to rest on her left shoulder. She was feeling very conscious of his movements again, and of the effect on her, of what definitely now felt to her like an embrace. The warmth he was providing like that was wonderful though, and he felt good, very good. There was no denying it.

She couldn't help but notice that his torso felt harder and more defined than she would've expected. Thinking about it, she realised she had actually noticed that he'd dropped a few pounds as they'd entered the third year of their journey. He'd also started taking some supplement or other that had caused the grey flecks in his brush cut to turn black again. The leaner, toned physique was certainly a plus, his muscular torso certainly felt fantastic pressed up again her now, she mused, and the loss of a few pounds off his face made his jaw line even more defined… but she'd actually liked his hair as it was. She wondered why he'd wanted to change it… feeling old perhaps? She could relate to that – there weren't that many crew members in the older age range on Voyager.

B'Elanna's waiter had been sent for more drinks, and returned with a jug of Nelix's bizarre supposedly Hawaiian punch, and some oddly shaped cocktail glasses. Tom took one, filled it too full and spilled some on the blanket. B'Elanna started berating him and throwing up her arms in annoyance. Tom quickly passed the glass to Ayala to hold to prevent further spillage until his neighbour calmed down. Mike took a sip, grimaced and silently passed it on to Chakotay. Kathryn felt the loss of his left hand from her shoulder immediately. She watched him as he decided what to do with the drink. Possibly to annoy Paris, or possibly just so he didn't have to sit there holding the bizarre looking sticky thing, he downed it in one. Tom had then looked at Ayala questioningly, to enquire as to where his drink had gone, and a nod of Ayala's head in Chakotay's direction had allowed Tom to catch up with the route it had taken, just in time to see Chakotay sink it. Chakotay ignored Tom's exasperated snort, and smiled mischievously at Kathryn as he licked the residual stickiness off his fingers before turning his attention back to the conversation going on around them, and returning his warm hand to her shoulder.

Their uncharacteristic proximity still didn't seem to be registering with him at all. She knew little about the culture in which he'd grown up, other than that his tribe were traditionalists and shunned much 24th century technology. About how personal relationships and friendships were expressed, she knew nothing. She made a mental note to research it one day soon.

She'd seen him be physically demonstrative often with B'Elanna, and she'd also seen how at ease he was with physical expressions of emotion around his male friends too. She'd seen him embrace several of his Maquis friends following Hogan's death and the death of his friend Kurt Bendera early on in their journey, and she'd seen him indulge in back slapping and the odd friendly punch with several of them too. As they continued into their third year together, she'd recently observed Chakotay and Tom beginning to strike up a friendship of sorts. To Kathryn this friendship appeared to involve Chakotay tolerating a fair amount of 'friendly' bating from Tom, who in turn tolerated Chakotay pushing him around in mock annoyance and occasionally pinning him to the ground or twisting his arm behind his back to shut him up when the 'Big Chief' jokes were spiraling out of control. B'Elanna seemed to find their spats entertaining and Kathryn had presumed that this sort of interaction was the closest Tom and Chakotay were likely to get to friendship, and would have to do for the time present. As B'Elanna was now spending much of her off duty time with Tom and Harry, Tom and Chakotay needed to find some way to rub along together if only to keep the Klingon happy. She thought Chakotay tolerated Tom like he would an annoying little brother.

Chakotay had related well to Harry right from the beginning of their journey and seemed to take on a more fatherly role with him. Kathryn remembered several occasions when he'd put a comforting arm around the younger man's shoulders in the aftermath of any number of traumas Harry had been subjected to since setting foot on Voyager.

So, Kathryn told herself, he's just being his friendly self here, it's me who is reading things into a casual touch, and having thoughts unbecoming a captain….

She was surprised that he seemed more at ease with her physically there on the holodeck, surrounded by other members of their crew, than he had been on New Earth a few months before with no on lookers – other than the monkey of course.

Perhaps it was because on that planet, the very real prospect of them becoming physically intimate had made any move in that direction seem very significant to both of them? She knew she'd been acutely aware of their bodies in close proximity. Here, back on the ship, with the parameters that she had re instated between them by unspoken agreement firmly back in place, perhaps he felt at liberty to blur the boundaries of friendship slightly, since they both understood nothing would come of it? That was if he even considered his behaviour tonight as to be blurring those boundaries at all. She wasn't exactly going to ask him, so she guessed it didn't matter really. She felt sure he'd rather not have those sorts of navel gazing conversations about their non-relationship. It was only in these rare uneventful bits of space that they had time to daydream about each other's motives and slight changes in behaviour anyway. Most of the time the Delta Quadrant kept them too tired and stressed to worry about romance... staying alive and keeping the ship in one piece seemed a little more pressing.

She'd zoned out of the conversation completely again, during this reverie, aware only of his arm around her and wonderful warmth that was radiating from his firm body and heating up hers. He smelt damn good too, there was no denying it. He smelt like cinnamon and coconut - which she knew was ridiculous. Of course he couldn't really smell of cinnamon or coconut! But that was what she thought she could smell pressed up against him. Perhaps he'd used coconut shower gel earlier this evening? Or perhaps it was just some fragrant tropical breeze programmed into this Hawaiian scene? She really didn't care - all she knew was that he smelt divine, and being held firmly against his warm, solid, masculine body was reminding her how good it could feel to be this close and connected to a man she found attractive. And he was certainly that, this was one time when there was really no denying it. Part of her brain had been thrown back to the sense memory of his beautiful strong hands massaging her shoulders again, when his fingers had been drawing circles over her skin earlier.

Eventually the group had started to leave in ones and twos to turn in for the night and Chakotay had pulled her up with him as he stood. She found herself walking back towards the arch with him, with his arm still draped over her back and his hand on her shoulder. It was as if he hadn't really noticed that this wasn't how they usually walked along together. When they arrived at the exit, and the slightly warmer air of Voyager's corridors wafted in, Kathryn had felt sure he'd release his hold, since he was clearly no longer required to keep her warm.

Surely the man would wake up to the fact that walking along the corridors in a semblance of an embrace with her First Officer for anyone on the ship to see just wasn't going to be something she would be comfortable with?! But he hadn't seemed to register any such thing as they had walked out. Kathryn had taken it upon herself to extricate herself as she turned towards him and made some excuse to take a different route off the deck - claiming she needed to go to check on something. He had accepted this without question and simply said goodnight to her with a smile, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

As she'd made her way down the corridor, Kathryn had then chided herself for being so ridiculous. Nothing out if the ordinary had happened for goodness sake! All he had done had been to try and keep her warm, so why on earth was she stressing about it? He had seemed totally at ease with their status as good friends for months at that point, and had been doing nothing more than keeping his friend warm, having accepted the parameters she'd defined for them. She was the only one who had been finding it hard to deal with them being so close together.

Moments like that had led her to think that Chakotay had long since moved past the feelings he had once expressed for her both in his touch and in his home spun 'legend' in that second year of their journey.

There were other reasons too why she had long been convinced that she was no longer someone for whom he harbored any particularly romantic feelings.

After very nearly dying in a shuttle crash, on some god forsaken planet, where a particularly terrifying alien had invaded her consciousness, Kathryn had spontaneously invited him to take a moonlight sail with her on Lake George on the holodeck, in an attempt to 'seize the day'. In the back of her mind, she had been aware that her invitation sounded very much like a date. But she hadn't cared. She hadn't felt quite like herself since it had happened, and asking Chakotay on a 'date' was just one of a number of out of character things she had done.

It had been a wonderful evening, and she'd felt cherished and cared for by his solicitous attentions all evening, but nothing had changed between them. Perhaps the photo she still kept of Mark in her ready room was enough to keep Chakotay from presuming anything about his place in her affections. Or perhaps he cared for her, loved her as a dear friend, but that was as far as it went now. Perhaps her failure to encourage him when he had opened himself up to her on New Earth, was enough to deter him from future declarations, without much more from her? She really didn't know.

She regained her sense of equilibrium after the near death ordeal eventually, and the ship continued on its journey.

In their third and fourth years on board Voyager, Kathryn had seen him with Riley Fraser and with Kellin. She remembered well that he hadn't seemed to experience any discomfort interacting with either woman in front of her. In fact she had been aware at the time of her own discomfort when Kellin had openly displayed the attraction she evidently felt for him. Kathryn had heard herself sounding more than a little possessive in her very first interaction with the damned woman in sickbay:

"And how do you know my First Officer?"

She had also found herself feeling irritated by his failure to share details of his impressions of whether or not Kellin was telling the truth and of the time he'd spent with her since she came on board. Eventually she'd been forced to tell herself to take a step back and accept he was entitled to some privacy in his dealings with this newcomer.

When Kellin's memory had been wiped, and Chakotay had had to accept her departure – as sudden as her arrival – Kathryn had felt for him, but couldn't honestly have said she was sorry to see Kellin go. She didn't want him to be hurting and miserable, but her social time with him had gone down to zero whilst Kellin had been on board, and she'd missed him. She knew it was selfish, but she wasn't a saint. No one wants their friends to drop them and move on, do they? He was still her closest friend on the ship by a very long way. She had tried her damnedest to be professional and even friendly to Kellin, but there was no denying it had been a struggle.

Similarly, the year before, when Riley Fraser had been on board briefly, her obvious interest in Chakotay had irked Kathryn in ways she hadn't wanted to examine too closely. The fact that he'd become intimate with both these women within hours almost of laying eyes on them, and in Kellin's case, within metres of where Kathryn lay awake at night on the other side of the bulk head in her quarters, had confirmed Kathryn's suspicions that any romantic feelings he might have once harbored for her had been long since submerged into their friendship.

Since the very beginning of their journey, he had been uncompromisingly stubborn in defence of his fierce protectiveness of her in situations where he perceived any threat whatsoever to her personal security. It was true that she, along with just about everyone else on the away teams probably, had noticed that his protectiveness did sometimes stray into the realm of the possessive. In situations where it was really more about her enjoyment than her security, when she was being bothered by some alien whose attention she wasn't enjoying, Chakotay never hesitated to appear at her side immediately and guide her away with his hand on the small of her back. If that wasn't an option and she was cornered by some irksome alien lothario, he would close down completely the very small amount of personal space he usually left around her, and stand his ground with an expression on his face that got rid of most of them pretty sharpish. Kathryn had often teased him about his over protectiveness, but that wasn't to say she had really wanted it to stop.

However, in these situations, he hadn't strayed from behaviour that was consistent with the roles of diligent First Officer, body guard and/or compassionate and capable friend. When it came to her appearance, he had never missed a beat with the appropriate compliment if she'd been obliged to dress to impress for some dinner or other. Only once or twice in the last 3 years had she wondered whether she'd caught a fleeting glimpse of another sort of appraising gaze directed her way. One that reminded her of standing next to her beautiful wooden bathtub in nothing but a towel. But these moments had passed so quickly she could never be sure whether or not she'd imagined it anyway.

As she reflected on all this, she realized that the conclusions about his feelings towards her that she'd drawn from moments like these had underpinned her failure to anticipate the turn of events and his change in attitude towards her during their one short dance in holographic Venice.


	3. Chapter 3

So - when he tilted his head towards her and closed the small but significant distance that had been maintained by both of them at the beginning of the dance, she suddenly felt the shift in his intention and understood what she'd just seen in his gaze. Desire.

His lips touched hers gently and it was exquisite.

She had no space or time to think anything other than that she wanted more. After he drew back from the initial soft kiss, his hand came up to graze her cheek and he held her chin to guide her mouth towards his lips again. The second time he kissed her, her body responded immediately. A warm flush spread through her and her lips parted willingly inviting him in. He didn't hesitate and took her up on everything she was offering and then some.

The connection between them seemed to have a life of its own and she felt her nervous system electrifying, so that she seemed to perceive his every touch with a heightened sensitivity. A two dimensional relationship had suddenly become three-dimensional and she was amazed at how strong the pull of this feeling was. He knew her well, of that she hadn't been in any doubt before, but she'd never realized that he could know how to use his body to stimulate hers so thoroughly, so instantaneously and so powerfully. It felt as intense as it did, because of the depth of the connection they'd already established with each other. No stranger could've made her feel this way. It could only be him. This overwhelmingly powerful desire was born of their complicated history together, and of every feeling and impulse they had suppressed to date.

As he deepened the kiss further, pulling her even closer to him, one of his hands began to caress her back whilst the other moved across her collarbone towards her breast. She found her own hands had moved up to the sides of his face, holding it firmly as she kissed him, withholding nothing of the urgency and passion she felt in that moment. Her fingers then threaded into his thick, short cropped hair, which felt wonderful between her fingers.

Only when he broke off the kiss and released her lips to kiss across her jawline and down the side of her neck did her higher brain functions seem to kick-start. As he cupped her breast with one hand and his thumb grazed her nipple, she couldn't help but gasp, as she realized where she wanted this to go. She knew that the larger part of her wanted nothing more than to make love to him now, here, and damn the consequences.

Suddenly aware of the strength of the responses she was giving him, she panicked.

"_I ...can't ...do... this! This is Chakotay for God's sake! How have we suddenly ended up here? I have to stop this! I just can't deal with this - this has nowhere to go! "_

She pushed his hand off her breast and pulled herself away from him and called out "Computer, end programme!"

Holo Venice shimmered out of existence.

His confusion was evident.

'Kathryn, I don't understand' he said simply.

She felt like crying, but it wasn't really an option. "Never really is when you're the captain"_,_ part of her brain chipped in inappropriately. Inappropriate since she wasn't even on duty! That made her feel even worse, since she thought how infuriating it was that there seemed to be so little space inside her head where she didn't feel_ all_ that responsibility _all_ the time these days.

She took several steadying breaths and tried to ignore the desire to pull him back towards her, so they could reconnect and carry on to where what they were doing was undeniably going to lead. If he had chosen to pull her back towards him then, she honestly didn't know if she would have had the necessary resolve to break the connection for a second time. Doing what she had just been doing with him was intoxicating and she wanted to taste him again. His body had felt wonderful pressed flush against her a moment ago. Warm, strong, solid, muscular and powerful - everything she needed in a partner was there, a few feet away, and she couldn't remember ever wanting someone more.

She was struggling to make sense of how all it had taken for things to get so far out of hand between them had been a change in his demeanor towards her. It had taken place in the space of a few seconds only, and she had responded in kind within a heartbeat. What on earth did that say about the control she'd always believed she had over her interactions with him?

Since New Earth, she'd believed that it had been her decision not to allow things to progress between them that had been the most significant factor in determining how they related to one another. Suddenly she didn't feel quite so sure of this. Perhaps they hadn't strayed past the boundaries of friendship in any major way in the intervening years because he hadn't actually been sure that he wanted to until this evening? Once he had made up his mind that he did want more from her, it seemed that she'd been quite willing to give it in the blink of an eye. True, she'd instinctively felt it'd be unwise to dance with him to date, but she hadn't ever imagined that if she did, it would have such drastic and almost instantaneous consequences.

Now she had allowed herself even this brief taste of what they could be to each other, she was struggling to make sense of what on earth she would do with this knowledge. How would she manage to squash all this back into a two dimensional friendship? She couldn't help herself looking at his beautiful lips as she stood there, trying to formulate a response, wondering how on earth she had managed not to kiss them before this point in time?

She knew he didn't understand why she'd stopped what had begun. Of course he didn't. The way he had held her against his body as the level of his desire rose, left her in no doubt as to his feelings towards her. Why would he want to stop? He wanted her intensely right now, still did, she could still see it in his eyes, and there had been a tenderness there that had made her feel cherished and connected to him in a way that can only come from an intimate knowledge of someone's mind.

But surely, this same intimate knowledge of her mind would be enough to allow him to easily work out exactly why she had stopped them?

Surely he would be able to easily predict her misgivings about becoming intimately involved with him?

It was old territory, wasn't it?

He'd wordlessly communicated his understanding of her reasons when they'd rejoined the crew after New Earth, so why was he saying he didn't understand now? Nothing had changed...

She realized her mind was going in circles then. In reality she did know exactly why he didn't understand her pulling away now. Obviously he thought she must have overcome the obstacles in her mind, or else she never would've allowed him to kiss her in the first place a few moments earlier. She hadn't exactly pushed him off, leaped back in surprise and slapped him now, had she?

She knew she had to say something in reply - he was waiting patiently - but she found she had nothing...so she started with

"I don't know if I do either..."

But she knew he deserved a better answer than that.

"I thought" he began, "when you gave me the Bonding Box...that was your way of telling me..."

"Telling you what?" She snapped too defensively.

"You're the one who did the research... The Bonding Box is a symbol of a person's intention to share their life with another," he stated calmly.

"No it isn't." She replied uncertainly, as the gradual dawning of realization as to how she had unintentionally led him to this moment began.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The look on his face clearly read, "So now _you're_ going to tell _me_ the significance of gift that's specific to my culture?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chakotay had called for the computer to resume the programme, so they had somewhere to sit at least, to have the conversation they had both probably always known they would have to have eventually.

After they had worked out how they'd arrived at this misunderstanding involving the meaning of giving and receiving the bonding box, Kathryn had apologized to him for unintentionally misleading him about wanting to change the nature of their relationship.

He had listened carefully, and then he had asked her to explain why it was that she still wasn't prepared to explore the possibilities that could exist between them, given that they were now both keenly aware of what some of those possibilities could be.

He held her gaze and told her he had thought about it a great deal since the evening she'd given him cause to a few days before, and he was ready to change things between them and wanted to explore all they could be to each other and felt it was worth the risk.

When she said he was asking for something she couldn't give he said

"What I still don't understand is why? What is it you're so afraid of?"

She did her best to explain:

"I could lose you. Voyager might survive the rest of the journey without you, but I wouldn't"

He stared at her speechless.

She felt totally exposed in so many ways, and would've wanted time it think about all this before having to explain herself. But she didn't want to shut him out now, when he was sitting there, opened up to her and vulnerable, making no attempt to conceal anything of his feelings for her.

Eventually, she found the words to tell him about Justin, her first fiancé, and how she couldn't bear to lose another lover, how she didn't feel strong enough, how she couldn't countenance loving him more than she did now and then having to face the possibility of losing him. She was convinced that being forced to try and deal with such a loss whilst trying to run a star ship and head up a community, would be too much, and would have the potential to destroy her.

"When I let myself imagine everything we could have…it isn't a safe love…. a love I can control. It's the other kind"

It all came pouring out and he listened patiently.

She thought he looked as if her admission of such very strong feelings for him and of her strong conviction that he would affect her so deeply were they to become romantically involved, came as a surprise to him. A welcome surprise of course.

The unmistakable love, tenderness and concern for her feelings in his eyes was too much and she found that she could no longer stem the flow of tears. So much of her wanted to give him anything he asked for and claim him as hers in every way. It was a huge relief for her to be honest with him finally about how she felt about him – and to know it was reciprocated.

She had been wrong. He had never really moved on. He had respected her engagement to Mark, and until she had had her letter telling her of Mark's marriage, he hadn't wanted to impose his feelings on her. But his feelings had been there all along. He had tried to move on, for sure, when he thought she wasn't interested in him. Two other women had initiated intimacy with him, and he'd responded – he was a man, not a monk - but the love he had felt for her 3 years ago hadn't died. It had been there all the time, not so very far beneath the surface of their friendship, if she had dared to look for it. She knew then that part of her hadn't wanted to see it and have to deal with what it meant. Friendship had been safer and easier to control.

As he hadn't known about her first fiancé's death and her reaction to it, he wouldn't have presumed fear to have been the motivating force behind her decision to limit their involvement. She knew he would've attributed her reluctance to her strict adherence to Starfleet protocols alone. That was probably why he'd been bold enough to ask her to consider taking the risk just now. If all they were risking was going against protocol and future awkwardness if things didn't work, then perhaps he would've been right to think she'd have been prepared to take the plunge, protocol be damned. Especially since moments ago, her desire for him had been just as apparent and just as strong as his for her.

He accepted her explanation. She knew he would. It wasn't as if he had a choice anyway. She made the choice for both of them - as usual - she thought with a bitter irony. She didn't say never, just not now. Not while she was responsible for his life.

Finally, he took her hand and told her another legend – a real one this time - this one also made her cry, but for very different reasons.

"A warrior loved a woman called Isabo…"

The end


End file.
